


Familiar Faces

by sailorstar165



Series: Familiar Faces [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Bodyswap, Canon-Typical Violence, Darker Moments, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Parallel Universe - Modern Setting, Parallel Universes, Self-Aware anime fan, Some Humor, serious moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23222245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorstar165/pseuds/sailorstar165
Summary: The faces around him were so familiar, but the place, the time was different. And Allen... "Who am I?"
Series: Familiar Faces [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692391
Comments: 28
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

Allen’s head was throbbing when he opened his eyes. Something was wrong here. Very wrong. For one thing, he was laying in damp grass when he could have sworn he was just in his room. For another, Lenalee was leaning over him asking if he was okay, which wouldn’t have been strange except she hadn’t been with him. Add to that the fact her hair was different—shorter and styled differently than it had been just that morning—and things didn’t add up.

His eyes trailed up to a glinting gold thing in the air. “T-Timcanpy?!” He jolted up and away, shocked. That really was Timcanpy.

“Walker! Where’s the Akuma?”

Allen tore his eyes away from the fluttering golem and stared at the blond man who had shouted. Unlike Timcanpy and Lenalee, this person wasn’t familiar in the least. It took him a moment to register the question the man had asked. Akuma? He’d heard that word before. It was on the tip of his tongue. What was it again?

“Allen?”

Still a bit disoriented, Allen turned to Lenalee again. Not only was her hair different, but so were her clothes. It looked a bit like their school uniform if it had been swallowed by an anime and turned into a military dress uniform. The other guy, the one he didn’t recognize, could’ve wandered out of Pandora Hearts or something. He even looked a bit like what’s-his-face. Nah, nevermind. The time-period clothes were right, but not nearly fluffy enough to be Pandora Hearts. Maybe Emma?

“Walker!”

He blinked, glanced around. “Are you… talking to me?” he finally asked.

That was the wrong thing to say, Allen realized belatedly when the blond-haired man tackled him back to the ground and pressed a knife to his throat. The man’s eyes narrowed. “So you’ve finally shown yourself, Fourteenth.”

His head throbbed painfully from colliding with the ground. At least it was soft enough to not make the injury worse. Maybe that’s why he asked another stupid question instead of panicking like he probably should have. “Fourteenth what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Normally, he might have thought a bit more before responding with, “I’m not playing,” but his head hurt too much and the panic was finally starting to bubble up to think more about his phrasing. “Who are you? Where am I? What the heck is Timcanpy doing here?” Okay, he was beginning to babble, but anyone would with a knife at their throat. “Why does my head hurt? Oh shit, have I been Isekai’ed? I knew I should’ve listened to Dad and stopped leaning my chair back like that. Now I’ve cracked my head open!”

The man with the knife stared down at Allen, then glanced at Lenalee. “‘Isekai’ed’?” he repeated, as if it was a word she might understand.

“I-it’s a genre of anime where characters get transported to other worlds,” Allen babbled. Judging by the looks the two exchanged, that hadn’t cleared anything up either. “You know, Truck-kun runs someone over, they die and wake up reincarnated in another world or something?” Still clear as mud. Maybe he shouldn’t talk in memes. Yuu had been right; no one understood that nonsense.

“If you aren’t the Fourteenth,” Lenalee said slowly, ignoring the glare the blond sent her way, “then who are you?”

“Allen Campbell,” he replied automatically. “Who’s the Fourteenth?”

“Not you, apparently,” came another voice.

Allen tried to turn his head, but he felt the knife press closer against his skin, so he settled for moving his eyes as far as he could to try and see who was speaking. A young man with red hair and a single green eye looked amused by this whole situation. “The Akuma got away. Think it’s responsible for… whatever this is?”

_Akuma_. There was that word again. Allen frowned, this time finally placing the term. “Wait, a demon? There are demons here?” And why was _that_ the random Japanese word they understood?

The eyepatch-wearing teen grinned. “Yup. I’m guessing there aren’t wherever you’re from?”

“Only in fiction.” This person was easier to talk to, even if he had no idea who he was either. Definitely preferable to the blond man still threatening him with the knife. “Where is here, exactly?”

“Middle of nowhere Austria-Hungary.”

“Crap, are we pre-World War I?”

The redhead frowned at him. “Can’t say I’m familiar with that one.”

_Shit_. “Forget I said that. Spoilers.”

Amusement returned to his features. “Spoilers?”

“Butterfly effect. I don’t wanna go home to giant ants ruling the world or something. Just pretend I didn’t mention it.” The blond man’s brow furrowed. Apparently, the butterfly effect hadn’t been invented yet either. “It’s a theory that changing one thing causes a chain reaction resulting in big changes in the future?” he offered helpfully. Anything to get that knife away from his jugular.

“You’re saying you’re from the future.” Obviously, his attacker didn’t believe him.

“21st century. Are we in the Victorian era?” Allen’s eyes darted to Timcanpy. “And seriously, why is Timcanpy here?”

“You know Tim?” asked Lenalee.

“He’s a picture book character. The Adventures of Timcanpy.” Allen swallowed. “C-could you stop with the knife? I really don’t know what’s going on.”

At last, the blond man removed the blade from his throat, but before Allen could sit up, he flung a series of talismans at the teen, ones that glowed and made his body feel way heavier than it should when they stuck to him. Okay, so magic existed in this world too. Between Timcanpy and the apparent existence of demons, this shouldn’t have been surprising.

Allen struggled, but managed to worm his way onto his knees in something like a sitting position. He too wore some kind of black-and-red military uniform like the redhead and Lenalee, but his was now covered in mud. “Seriously, what’s going on here?” he demanded. “Who are you people?”

“The name’s Lavi,” the redhead said, eye twinkling with interest. “Two-Spot over there is Howard Link and the girl is Lenalee Lee. And you already know Timcanpy,” he added when the golden ball settled into Allen’s hair. “You said your name’s Campbell?”

Allen nodded. “Allen Campbell,” he repeated.

Lavi looked him over. “Any idea how you got here, Allen?”

“No idea. I was in my room transcribing music for Lenalee and next thing I know, I’m here.”

Lavi gestured to the girl in question. “You know her?”

“Sort of?” How to explain this one? “I’m dating a girl who looks just like this Lenalee and has the same name, so I guess this is a parallel world or something.”

To Timcanpy, Lenalee said, “Don’t show that to my brother. _Ever_.” To Allen, she said, “I’m sure this is all really confusing, but we’ll try to explain best we can, okay?” She ignored the look she received from the blond man.

Judging by the uniforms, the existence of demons, the fact that the blond—Howard Link—was apparently heavily armed and magically inclined, there was only one conclusion Allen could come to: “Are you guys part of some religious military organization that exterminates demons?”

The suspicion Link looked upon him with was palpable. “How do you know that?”

“Uniforms, demons, weapons, magic” Allen listed, doing his best to shrug despite the fact the weird talisman things were keeping his body from moving correctly. “I read a lot. Demon-hunting military stories are kind of in right now.” He could rattle off at least four titles without thinking about it, but there was no point when they had no idea what anime or manga was. “Add in some crazy big bad who’s in charge of all the monsters and a secret organization of higher-level human baddies to play foil to the heroes, and you’ve got a Shounen Jump manga.”

Lavi snorted with laughter. “Is our world a book or something in your world? Because that’s scary accurate.” He didn’t know what a Shounen Jump manga was, but the rest of it was spot on.

Allen looked around. “Unless this is secretly a prequel to Blue Exorcist, I don’t think so.”

“I know you said no spoilers, but—”

“Bookman Junior,” Link snapped, silencing the teen, “need I remind you that we’re on a mission and you _lost_ the Akuma?”

_Bookman Junior_. Where had Allen heard that name before? He knew he had. It wasn’t a Youtube personality, was it? No, but that was close. Internet chat handle or something? Wait, it was that guy from Reddit, the one who trolled around the History subreddits answering all the weird obscure history questions. Whelp, maybe Allen did know this guy a little bit then. Not that he’d tell Lavi. He was pretty sure the invention of the internet counted as a major spoiler.

“You said I could find it, right?” Allen asked instead. “You were asking before where it was.”

Lavi pointed at his own eye. “That peeper of yours can sense the Akuma. You can spot ‘em from up to 300 meters away.”

Huh. That was a useful power. “But how do I use it?”

That, they couldn’t tell him. Guess they would be winging this one.


	2. Chapter 2

_THUMP._

“Ouch!”

Okay, something was off here. The ground was way too hard, and there was no breeze. When he opened his eyes, there was a ceiling over his head, so he definitely wasn’t outside. A song was blaring in Allen’s ears, one that he didn’t recognize nor understand the language of. Speaking of ears, something was wedged into his. Allen pulled out a pair of tiny speakers, like smaller versions of Marie’s headphones.

The door opened, and Allen tilted his head up from where he lay on the carpeted floor. No. No way. This wasn’t possible.

Mana stood in the doorway looking a few years older than Allen remembered him. The edges of his golden eyes creased in mild concern as he stared down at him. “Are you all right?” Even the voice was the same.

“I’m fine,” Allen replied, unmoving.

The man’s face crinkled into a grin, and he shook his head. “How many times must I tell you, four feet on the ground?”

Allen couldn’t help but answer with a matching grin, “At least one more time,” the way he might have before Mana died. He rolled off his chair and accepted the hand Mana offered him. This wasn’t a dream. Mana really was here, his hand warm and familiar.

_But if this isn’t a dream, then what is it?_ Allen thought, glancing around the room to get his bearings while Mana righted the desk chair and picked up whatever the little speakers were connected to. He was in a bedroom, one where the walls were plastered with drawings of people with large eyes he didn’t recognize. A bookshelf was in one corner, crammed with books. On the full-sized bed was not one, but _two_ plush toys that were the spitting image of Timcanpy. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and it took all his self-control not to react.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Allen smiled at his father. “You worry too much.” It was reflex after all the years with Mana to not worry the man. This Mana seemed perfectly sane compared to his Mana, but Allen didn’t want to risk that this Mana was just better at hiding the fact he was a little off. Okay, more than a little off, if this Mana was even a little like his late father.

Mana ruffled Allen’s hair. “I'm your dad. It’s my job to worry,” he said with a chuckle before pressing the flat object into his hands. “Dinner should be ready in an hour.”

Once his father’s doppelganger was gone, Allen set the device on the desk and crossed the small room to the mirror on the dresser there. The reflection that greeted him was one Allen never thought he would see again. Red-brown hair framed an unscarred face. Silver eyes stared back at him. The shadow was still hovering around him in a vaguely menacing way, but the sight of himself unchanged, uncursed, was enough to make him overlook it. Allen reached out a hand to touch the glass but stopped dead when he discovered perfectly human skin. No Innocence, no deformity.

Allen staggered back and nearly tripped over the chair. He caught it before it fell, then sat in stunned silence as his mind worked a mile a minute. He’d just been fighting Akuma, hadn’t he? They had taken out a small army of Level Ones, then a Level Two had snuck up on the group and thrown Allen. Next thing he knew, Allen was here.

_Did that Akuma do this?_ What _had_ it done, exactly? He looked around the room for a clue. Allen didn’t think this was an illusion—Mana’s hand felt too real for that. Besides, other than Timcanpy, nothing in this room was remotely familiar. That would take a lot of effort for an Akuma to invent details Allen didn’t know rather than pull things out of his brain.

More likely, this was reality, just not his own, as crazy as that sounded. This body wasn’t Allen’s own either, but it still felt familiar. A little taller than he was, but it felt like another version of himself. A parallel world, then? Mana had told him a story like that when he was a kid once, about two people who were essentially the same person switching bodies across worlds. Or was it time? Allen didn’t remember.

Regardless, Allen needed more information. Even if this person whose body he inhabited was a version of himself, he was still only that: a version. There would be differences, and Allen wasn’t sure how long he’d be here like this. It would be best to learn what he could and lay low until Lenalee and Lavi took out the Akuma and got him back home. He hoped they could get him home anyway. Knowing his luck…

Allen shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on that.

Instead, he snooped, if a little guiltily. The bookshelf was packed with titles he didn’t recognize. Some were… creative. “The Devil is a Part-Timer?” he read aloud. And that wasn’t even the weirdest one. At least one title was a full two sentences long!

Slim volumes on the bottom shelf caught his eye. There was a whole set of more than a dozen books with names containing the word “Timcanpy” at the start. He slipped one off the shelf, “Timcanpy and the Little Clown.”

The cover was a neatly inked illustration of an oblivious older clown in Mana’s familiar makeup and traveling clothes walking off the side of the cover with an irritated younger clown in Allen’s own patchwork coat being shoved along by none other than Timcanpy at the center. Allen couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at the image. At the bottom where the author’s name should be was “Mana Walker,” which made Allen draw a shuddering breath as he stubbornly held back tears at the name.

To distract himself from the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him, he flipped through a few pages. It was a children’s book told through the eyes of Timcanpy, a pet golem that was taking care of his clown, or more specifically in this adventure, the clown’s newly adopted (and very grumpy) son “Little Clown.”

Allen was about to close the book but caught sight of one last picture. On the back cover’s book flap was a little blurb about the author, Mana Walker. All of it was total nonsense, seemingly borrowing the clown character’s backstory as the author’s own. Even the image of the author was a colorful photograph of someone dressed as the storybook clown juggling illustrated balls with Timcanpy mixed in. Anyone else wouldn’t recognize the clown as the man downstairs, but Allen had grown up with Mana and could recognize him anywhere in or out of makeup.

He snapped the book closed and put it back with the others. It was interesting information, this Mana being a children’s author, but not particularly helpful for his situation.

Allen moved on to the desk. The object his father had picked up earlier was still there, screen still lit and the faint sound of music still blaring through the speakers. He poked at it for a few seconds, wondering how to stop the noise, until his finger brushed over a circular image with two parallel lines. The song stopped mid-word. He tapped the button image again, and the sound started up again. Neat, but not what he needed.

He stopped the music once more and examined the rest of the things on the desk. Papers he recognized as sheet music were strewn about, the top-most labeled “Here – The Ancient Magus’ Bride.” Even though Allen had never seen real sheet music before in his life, he recognized that that was the title and could even read the notes. His stomach twisted at this latest discovery of another talent given to him by the Fourteenth’s memories but kept glancing them over.

The one set he recognized as piano music for the song playing on the device. The other, definitely unfinished, was the beginning of that same song for violin. In the corner for both where the composer’s name would be was “arranged by Allen Campbell.”

So this person was named Campbell? Allen mumbled it to himself, testing the name. _But if I’m Campbell, then is Walker Mana’s alias?_ Probably, considering the book’s Mana Walker seemed determined to hide his identity from the children reading.

At the moment, that didn’t really matter. Allen began opening drawers looking for more information. He found mostly odds and ends, but the largest bottom drawer contained a stack of notebooks. Curious, he picked the topmost up and saw it was dated. The year was more than a century later than Allen’s own time. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he flipped through the pages.

This was a journal, each entry dated exactly one week apart like clockwork. Little printed photographs were glued in with some of the entries, and doodles decorated the margins of others. The latest entry included a photo of this Allen dressed in gentlemanly garb and top hat next to none other than Lenalee decked out in a frilly dress Road might pick out for her. Allen read through the page. Apparently, they’d gone to some kind of anime con—whatever that was—and their costumes had gone over well. There were some complaints (not enough sleep, having to catch up on homework now that the con was done, that sort of thing) but also excitement over finding some out of print manga—again, whatever that was.

He read through more entries, getting a better idea of what made this Allen tick. He was a nerd and bookworm, enjoyed playing piano, loved his friends (Lenalee and Yuu— _Yuu?!_ ) dearly, and his family (made up of his dad Mana and uncle Nea) even more so.

A few stray comments here and there gave him pause. It seemed this Allen was also… well, like Allen, a little damaged by childhood trauma. There was no indication—at least in this most recent notebook—what the source might be, and frankly, Allen didn’t want to know. Having survived that circus, Mana’s death and failed resurrection, and later General Cross, Allen didn’t want to delve into his doppelganger’s tragic past if he could help it. Whatever it was, though, it was bad enough that he’d get flashbacks, judging by one remark about Yuu’s reaction to one such event.

Just as he was about to set that notebook aside and grab another, Allen heard Mana call from downstairs, “Dinner’s ready!”

_Already?_ Allen consulted the little alarm clock and realized he had been reading through the meticulously kept journal for almost an hour.

Downstairs, Allen found Mana had set a table for two. A big bowl of rice sat next to a bowl with some kind of cubed meat in red sauce along with two side salads. It wasn’t something Allen had ever seen his Mana make before, but the smell made Allen’s mouth water.

“How goes the transcribing?” Mana asked, waiting for Allen to be seated before starting on his salad.

So the sheet music really was this Allen’s work. The same slightly invasive feeling that had helped him read the notes earlier told him what transcribing meant, meaning it wasn’t _his_ work, just something the other Allen was writing down by ear. Allen resisted the urge to shudder. “It’s going okay. The violin part is being difficult.” He assumed that was the right thing to say.

Mana chuckled. “I seem to recall your uncle warning you it would be tricky.” He frowned a moment. “Allen, what’s that on your neck?” He gestured to his own throat to indicate where he was looking.

Allen touched his neck, finding a thin raised line. That hadn’t been there earlier, had it? “I must have scratched it.” But Allen couldn’t recall having done it, nor did he remember seeing it in the mirror. Maybe he’d been too distracted by his hair and lack of scar to notice?

A flicker of concern glimmered in Mana’s eyes, but the man pursued the issue no farther. Instead, he finished his salad and served himself up some of the rice and meat with red sauce, choosing instead to ask about Allen’s day, and when Allen gave somewhat noncommittal answers, switched to chatting about his own.


	3. Chapter 3

The Black Order was a surreal place, Allen decided. First Link had marched him, still restrained by the strange magical bindings, into a glowing portal, through a vaguely Mediterranean ghost town, then past an army of people in white lab coats giving the group curious and frightened looks to a large office, where he came face-to-face with his science teacher, Mr. Lee, and his school’s principal, Mr. Lvellie. Like the others, they were in uniforms, and much like Howard Link and Lavi earlier, they had just finished subjecting him to an interrogation.

“So you currently reside in the United States, possibly an alternate reality, a century in the future, but you have an English accent because you lived in London a while,” Komui summed up. “You have no knowledge of the Fourteenth Noah, and you wish to tell us as little as possible of your time to protect the time-space continuum just in case.” The man’s lip twitch into a smile. “That last point seems fair; time can be such a wibbly wobbly timey wimey mess.”

Lvellie’s eyes narrowed at Allen as the boy tried to stifle laughter. “What’s so funny?”

Allen stopped immediately. “Sorry. Wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff.” This Komui appeared just as delightfully weird as his own science teacher back home, and the familiarity was both a comfort and a curse. Lvellie’s sobering presence was another story entirely. He’d only spoken with the man once or twice, and the authority he wielded here felt the same as that which he wielded back home.

Lvellie thrust a paper before Allen. “Can you read this?”

The page was black with combinations of white dashes forming two circles around a crest in the center. Allen shook his head. “What is it?”

“A music score.”

“This isn’t what those look like where I’m from,” Allen replied.

Lvellie frowned. “This is a special score.”

Allen shrugged. “I can’t read it. It’s kind of cool looking though.”

“Can you tell us anything about it?”

Another shrug. He might have seen the crest at the center somewhere, but he couldn’t place it. “Afraid not.”

The man who looked like his principal was about to ask something else, but Allen’s stomach chose that moment to let out a loud grumble. The high-schooler-turned-exorcist blushed, and Komui chuckled.

“I think it’s safe to say he’s not a threat,” the Chinese man said. “Inspector Link, if you would remove his restraints and escort him to the cafeteria?”

The silent inspector looked to Lvellie, who nodded. The talismans fell away, and Allen rolled his shoulders, grateful to at last be free of the extra weight.

His hand especially was stiff, having had the highest concentration of those strange magical charms attached to it. Seeing it now, though, he began to understand why. The skin was blood red and hard, with a cross embedded in the back of his hand. He hadn’t had a good look at it back when he first found himself here. One more piece of evidence for the Shounen Jump Protagonist theory.

“Can I ask what’s up with this arm?” he asked, flexing his fingers. They were slowly becoming more limber with the movement.

Apparently, they hadn’t considered him being thrown for a loop by this after taking the rest of everything in stride. Komui gave a brief summary of the Innocence and anti-Akuma weapons, then asked, “Is your arm different in your reality?”

Allen kept moving the hand. “My arm’s normal.” Well, mostly normal; he did have a few scars from childhood. “You said that only certain people could use Innocence, right? Will it work for me even though I’m not the right Allen?”

They hadn’t considered this either. Komui visibly paled. That wasn’t a good sign. “This is the kind of magic weapon that punishes people who aren’t really its owner, isn’t it…”

“W-well…”

“Invoke it,” Lvellie commanded.

Both Allen and Komui stared at the man. Then Allen shifted his gaze to Komui. The not-science-teacher seemed far more trustworthy on this one.

“It might be best to have Hevlaska—”

“He hasn’t fallen yet,” the snake of a man said.

“There’s too much risk.”

Allen interrupted, “I think I’d rather see this Hevlaska person.” Better to consult the expert, right? Besides, he didn’t like the sound of the word _fallen_.

Hevlaska, it turned out, wasn’t human, but instead a great glowing creature. One that recognized in an instant that the Allen Walker before her was not, in fact, their Allen. She, much like Komui, was concerned about the Innocence embedded in his hand, but after gently picking him up and examining the anti-Akuma weapon, they breathed a collective sigh of relief. According to Komui’s explanation, the synchronization rate was lower than the real Allen’s, but not dangerously so. They would see about invoking the Innocence later, but for now, Komui insisted that he go get some dinner.

The cafeteria was crowded, and after Howard Link ordered enough food to feed a small army for Allen, the two joined Lavi and Lenalee at a table. Lavi took the chance to have some fun, pointing at different people and asking if Allen knew a version of them. After about the fifth ‘no,’ the redhead was beginning to lose interest in this game until he noticed Allen visibly react to the sight of one exorcist in particular. “Yuu?”

A huge hundred-watt grin spread across Lavi’s features as he jumped up and dragged the Japanese man in question over. “Damn rabbit, the hell are you—”

Lavi cut him off by asking Allen, “You know him, right? How do you know him?”

His excitement, and the harsh glare the other man wore, made Allen nervous. “I feel like I’m getting set up for something, and I don’t like it,” he whispered to Lenalee.

Lenalee heaved a sigh and explained to their fellow exorcist, “There’s been an… incident with an Akuma on our mission, and Allen’s mind was switched with another person. Allen, this is Yuu Kanda, Kanda, this is Allen Campbell.”

Kanda stared at Lenalee, then shifted his glare back to Allen when Lavi whined, “Seriously, Al, how do you _know_ him?”

Allen shrank back a little. “Yuu and I are—”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Yuu,” growled the exorcist, his glare turning fiercer.

Allen flinched. He’d only seen his friend with this murderous glare twice in the years they’d known each other, and never had it been directed at him. The first time, Allen had had a flashback while watching Game of Thrones with him and Lenalee and let something slip—he couldn’t remember what—that had set Yuu off. The second time, a guy flipped Lenalee’s skirt at an anime convention Yuu already hadn’t wanted to be at, and that time, he almost broke that person’s fingers.

This version of Yuu had a sword, and with the full force of that murderous intent turned on him, Allen wasn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t tread carefully. Already, his breath was coming quicker. “S-sorry. Kanda. The Yuu Kanda I know is a… a friend of mind.”

“Tch.” The exorcist yanked his arm free of Lavi. “I’m not your friend. Stay out of my way.”

Once the lookalike was gone, Allen laid his head down in his arms on the table with a small groan and focused on breathing. Concerned, Lenalee touched his shoulder, making Allen tense. “A-are you okay?”

“Freaking out,” he said, not lifting his head. “Give me a sec. I’ll be fine.” At least this was mild. No flashbacks or anything, just that slightly overpowering sense of dread that caused his pulse to quicken.

Lenalee gave Lavi a withering look. Lavi, meanwhile, blinked down at Allen and said, “Why’d Yuu-chan shake you when Two-Spot didn’t?”

Slowly, Allen lifted his head to add his own glare to Lenalee’s. “I can handle knives at my throat,” he groused. “What I can’t handle are friends with swords looking like they’re going to murder me.”

“I don’t see the difference there.”

Allen groaned and dropped his head back into his arms. Timcanpy landed on his shoulder and patted his head with his tiny nubby arm. That gesture was welcome. “There is to me.” He sure as hell wasn’t going to try and explain it.

Sensing Allen needed a break, Lenalee picked up a fork and chucked it at Lavi. “Leave him alone, Lavi.” To Allen, she said, “Would eating help?”

“Probably.” The mountain of food was way more than one person could eat, but considering how hungry he felt, Allen didn’t doubt he could finish it all.

As they ate, Allen continued to distract himself by trying to find other familiar faces in the crowd without Lavi’s prompting. Besides Kanda, who Allen avoided making eye-contact with, he spotted Dr. Tiedoll forcing all kinds of love on the grumpy exorcist. Fitting in a way, considering the children’s psychologist was Kanda’s adoptive father in Allen’s world (part of the reason he and Yuu had bonded so closely was that they both had been through the foster care system, even if their experiences were vastly different).

Nobody else jumped out at him though. It was a big world, both his own and theirs, and he was just one person. The likelihood of everyone being someone Allen had met was slim, but the few faces he recognized, other than Yuu’s, were welcome.

After a while, Lenalee brought his attention back with a simple question, “Is your world dangerous?”

Allen tilted his head. “It can be, but I think your Allen’ll be fine so long as he doesn’t walk out into traffic. Dad’ll keep an eye on him, and he’ll be stuck at school—” he stopped. School. He’d almost forgotten about that. “Please tell me this Allen has been to school before.”

Lenalee bit her lip. “We’ve all had tutors here at the Order.”

“Allen’s pretty good at blending in,” Lavi added. “Your grade might suffer for a day or two, but we’ll be getting you back soon as the Finders find the Akuma.”

“Does defeating the Akuma cancel out the power?” asked Allen. “Or…” He hoped that he wouldn’t just be trapped there.

Lavi grinned. “Don’t you worry, Al. We have a secret weapon.” He gestured behind Allen.

Before he could look, said secret weapon had flung his arms around Allen’s neck. “Welcome back!” the littlest exorcist said in glee.

This boy had blue hair and a huge gem in his forehead. The longer Allen spent here, the more convinced he was that this was a Shounen Jump series. “Hi?”

The boy blinked at him, frowned a little, then said, a little accusingly, “Hey, you’re not Allen!”

Allen blinked. He’d only said one word. Were he and this Allen that different? “What gave it away?”

“Tsukikami told me,” the boy replied. “So who’re you?”

Again, Allen stared at the boy still clinging to him. More random Japanese. “Allen Campbell. An Akuma switched us somehow and got away.”

“How’d your mission go, Timothy?” Lenalee asked.

“We kicked ass and took names,” Timothy said with a big grin. “Miranda broke her nose, but that’s ‘cause she tripped on the way back. No Innocence this time.”

An exorcist who must have been Miranda judging by her patched-up nose approached them, looking especially flustered. “H-How did it go for you?”

“No Innocence either, but we’ve got our own fun story.” Lavi gestured to Allen. “Meet Allen Campbell, Allen’s twin from another dimension.”

“Nice to meet you, Miranda,” Allen said, offering a hand.

While he and Miranda shook hands, Lavi butted in once again with, “Know either of them?”

“Nope.”

Timothy snagged a meat bun off one of Allen’s many plates and stuffed it in his mouth. “How would he know us?”

“There’s some crossover,” Allen explained. “Like Lenalee. I know someone who looks just like her.”

Timothy chanced stealing another of Allen’s meat buns and was a little disappointed when he didn’t react. Ah well, their Allen was nice, so maybe he wouldn’t get a reaction out of this one either.

“Is this what Komui meant when he said we’d have to leave on a mission again soon?” Miranda asked.

“Yup. We’re gonna need Tim here to switch them back,” Lavi said, grinning.


	4. Chapter 4

It never occurred to Allen that he ought to accept Mana’s offer to call him out sick the next day for school. Though this Mana seemed perfectly sane, Allen still remembered the time he’d caught a cold and just how worried his Mana had been over him, and besides, he was perfectly healthy. He hadn’t the foggiest idea why Mana would even offer to let him skip. He didn’t _think_ he was acting too differently from his counterpart. At least, he hoped he wasn’t.

The next test came in the morning. Allen woke before the alarm and struggled to figure out how to get the same flat rectangular device from the day before to stop blaring when it went off. By then, he had already changed into this Allen’s school uniform, an outfit that resembled his exorcist uniform if it had been turned into a blazer. He picked up this Allen’s backpack, hoping that the papers and books inside were the ones he would need. He added the violin sheet music to the mix as an afterthought, then headed downstairs.

He’d been expecting Mana, but the individual he found there must have been this Allen’s uncle. The man had short messy dark hair, but the gold eyes and family resemblance to Mana made Allen relax a little.

He glanced up from the newspaper he was reading, and his coffee mug stopped partway to his lips. “You’re up early,” Nea commented. “I can’t remember the last time you didn’t hit snooze three times.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Allen said, wearing a cheerful smile as he set his bag down by the table.

Nea slurped some coffee, then headed for the stove. “I was just about to start on breakfast. Guess we can have something fancier than cold cereal since you got your butt out of bed on time.”

As he set about cooking, he asked, “Are you doing okay?”

Allen blinked. “I’m fine?” There was concern in the other man’s voice. What was he expecting? Allen to say he got a concussion from falling out of his chair yesterday? Sure, he had a little bump, but—

“You’re not…” the man seemed to struggle to come up with what to say, then sighed and opted for the blunt approach, “hurting yourself again, are you?”

Wait, _what_?! Allen gaped at the man’s back. This Allen hadn’t written anything like that in any of the journals. Even the oldest one that had been written by an angry, bitter child that reminded Allen of his days as Red hadn’t had any indication of that, only early grumblings that Dr. Tiedoll was making him write down his feelings. “I’m not. What makes you think I am?”

Nea cleared his throat awkwardly, not looking up from his task of scrambling eggs. He explained apologetically, “Your father mentioned you cut your neck. He thought you might talk to me about it.”

“I think I just scratched it when I fell,” Allen tried. He honestly wasn’t sure when he got it, but that was as good a guess as any.

“Bullshit. Mana and I know the difference between a scratch and a cut. That was definitely caused by a knife, Allen.”

Allen knew the difference as well; he just hadn’t been concerned enough to look too closely at the minor injury. He hadn’t seen a blade in this Allen’s room while he was snooping, and the thought that it might be more than a small scratch never came to mind.

Carefully, Allen said, “I’m not sure when it happened. I didn’t do it, and I didn’t know it was there until,” he almost said ‘Mana’ but was able to switch before the wrong word came out, “Dad pointed it out.”

Nea returned with plates of eggs and toast. He studied his nephew's face carefully as he set one before Allen, trying to determine how much of that was true. No wonder Mana had suggested he stay home, if this Allen tried to hurt himself in the past. If Mana thought something had happened to cause him to start up again, then staying home might be the better option.

But then he’d have to keep up the act in front of Mana, one of the people who knew this Allen best. Add in the fact that they’d be watching him like a hawk to make sure he didn’t do something stupid and to find out what was wrong just added to the likelihood he’d be found out. So far, this world didn’t have any magic, so their first instincts might be to check him into an asylum, and that was the last thing he and this Allen needed.

“Still want to go to school?” Nea asked, drawing him from his thoughts.

“I’m fine,” Allen insisted, tucking into his breakfast. It was weird, not feeling like he was starving. It was even stranger when the relatively small amount of food (for him) on his plate was enough to sate his appetite.

His uncle shrugged. “If you need to talk…”

“Really, I’m fine. I’m not hurting myself.”

Sighing, Nea went back to his breakfast and coffee. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Allen did not know where to find him, but when he climbed out of the horseless carriage Nea had driven a little while later, doing his best to act like a tiny personal vehicle that moved of its own volition was perfectly normal, he realized why. Nea had a backpack of his own and was heading for the school building, same as him. _So he’s a teacher?_ Allen had never thought about what Mana’s brother, the Fourteenth Noah, would be doing if he hadn’t died, hadn’t forced his memories on someone, had lived a normal human life, but teaching certainly wouldn’t have been among his first guesses.

The school building was large, but not as big as the Black Order’s new headquarters. That did not mean Allen wouldn’t get lost if he wasn’t careful. And he _had_ to be careful.

As he wondered where he needed to go, soft lips met his cheek, making him jump. Lenalee grinned at him. “Morning, Sleepyhead,” she trilled. She took his hand and led the way to what must have been the cafeteria, judging by the layout and number of tables. Already, the room was half-filled with fellow students, and the table they headed for had one person Allen would recognize anywhere.

Yuu Kanda was sitting and reading a book. He leaned his arm against his messenger bag on the table, not looking up as the two sat down. Unlike Allen’s Kanda, this one’s hair was a little shorter, maybe just past shoulder length, but pulled back in the familiar ponytail.

“Morning, Weebs,” he said before yawning.

This relaxed, friendly Kanda threw Allen for a loop. The journals had said this Kanda and Allen were good friends, but for him to have what had to be a nice nickname for him and Lenalee made Allen’s skin crawl. Unless it wasn’t a nice nickname, and this Kanda secretly hated them both.

“Morning, Yuu-chan,” Lenalee teased back.

“Don’t call me Yuu-chan.” It wasn’t the angry snap that Lavi often earned for his impertinence. Okay, this Kanda was definitely too nice.

“But you’re our Yuu-chan!”

“I’m nobody’s Yuu-chan,” he griped, but it wasn’t as harsh as the response Allen’s Kanda would have given. “Allen, back me up on this.”

The temptation was too strong. “Whatever could you mean, _Yuu-chan_?” The fact the exorcist lookalike did _not_ murder him was a bit of a shock, but well worth it. He’d never get away with this back home.

“Not you too,” Kanda groaned. “Keep it up, and I’ll spoil the ending for Samurai 7.”

Was that supposed to mean something? The way Lenalee stuck her tongue out at him, it probably should have. “How do you even know how that series ends?”

“I’ve seen Seven Samurai. They can’t be too different.”

“Samurai Otaku.”

“You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means,” he replied without missing a beat, going back to his book.

“And you say we’re the nerds,” Lenalee harrumphed before leaning back in her chair. Her attention turned to Allen. “By the way, how’s that song coming?” she asked.

Allen opened his bag and retrieved the music. He’d figured that Lenalee might want to see it, since the other Allen had mentioned a few entries ago that he was going to put together something they could play together. “It’s taking a little longer than I thought it would,” he said by way of excuse.

Lenalee nodded and read over the couple of lines, miming the fingerings as she went. “Not bad. Mind if I write on this?” When Allen gave the go ahead, she retrieved a pencil from her purse and began connecting notes with curved lines. _Slurs,_ Allen realized thanks to the Fourteenth’s memories. Okay, that was getting a little annoying now.

After about a minute, she passed the sheet back. “I can’t wait to play this. Think you’ll post it?”

_Post it?_ Allen opted for a noncommittal, “I’m not sure.”

Kanda said, “Your viewers would eat it up if you played a duet with your hot girlfriend.”

Allen’s heart nearly stopped. _Girlfriend?_ What?

Thankfully, Lenalee was too busy poking Kanda to notice. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a hot boyfriend _or_ a growing Youtube channel.”

To this, Kanda just shrugged. “I’m so sorry to be missing out on, what, four bucks a month?”

“Wasn’t it thirty last month?” Lenalee asked Allen.

“I don’t remember. Maybe?” What the heck was a Youtube channel? And how much was four bucks? Or thirty? Back home, four dollars would be a lot of money, but judging by the sarcasm, it probably wasn’t that much here.

Kanda’s eyes drifted up from his paperback and narrowed suspiciously at Allen. For his part, Allen did his best not to draw attention to how uncomfortable it made him, nor to the nick on his neck. He couldn’t be sure how much this Allen’s friends knew, nor how perceptive this Kanda was.

Before the other teen could make any comment, a bell rang, and the crowd of students began gathering their things and heading for the cafeteria doors. Allen followed suit and hoped that his poor sense of direction would be enough to navigate the halls with the room numbers and schedule this Allen had scribbled in the front of his planner.

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, Allen was absolutely exhausted. To the point where Nea, at school known as Mr. Campbell the music teacher, had even pulled him aside at the end of class to check once again if he was okay. Allen feigned a smile and swore he was fine. At least the Fourteenth’s memories had carried him through enough to play the piano with the orchestra, so he hadn’t given himself away completely.

Lenalee and Kanda joined him in the lunch line, and so Allen followed their lead until they reached the table.

There, Kanda made the comment that he was going to before. “You’re acting weirder than usual. What’s up?”

Allen took a bite of his sandwich. “What do you mean?”

Kanda watched his face as he said, “You’re doing that thing where you smile, nod, pretend everything’s great, and then talk as little as possible so we don’t notice.”

“Yuu,” Lenalee hissed, “you weren’t supposed to say anything!”

The samurai’s twin scoffed. “There’s only so long I’m watching him flounder around before I want answers.”

So they both had noticed. Allen put on his cheeriest smile and said, “Nothing’s wrong. I, uh, just didn’t sleep well last night and got up too early.”

“See?” Lenalee turned to Kanda. “I told you that’s all it was.”

Then Allen flinched. His eye had throbbed, and a jolt ran through his hand, two feelings he knew all too well. He clapped a hand over his eye before they could see but didn’t feel the lens that came with his curse activating. His mind was racing. Was the other Allen fighting Akuma? Why were they _letting_ him anywhere near them? This Allen wouldn’t know what to do in a fight!

“Allen?”

He kept smiling. “Something got into my eye. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Kanda grabbed his arm and yanked him back into his seat. He pried Allen’s hand away, then his own eyes widened.

Allen wasn’t sure what Kanda and Lenalee saw, but he knew what he himself saw was strange. Rather than the black-and-white world that usually accompanied his curse, what he saw was hazy, and the souls of Akuma flitted around his vision while the room remained still. As if his cursed eye were moving independently of its counterpart here.

“The hell is with your eye?” Kanda asked at last, voice low.

Lenalee shakily pressed a compact mirror in Allen’s hand, and the cursed teen looked at his reflection. His eye appeared as it usually did when the curse was active, with the whites going dark and his iris going red. For the other two who had never seen this before, it must have looked nightmarish.

What was he supposed to tell them? That he was cursed? Maybe he should make up an excuse and try to pass this off as a sudden onset case of mutated pink eye. One of the Akuma souls was freed and vanished.

Allen was a good liar with an excellent poker face, but even he couldn’t think of a good excuse on the spot when something was obviously wrong. He swallowed thickly. How much should he trust these people who looked just like his comrades? How much would _this_ Allen trust them?

Then a thought struck him as the souls whorled around his vision, one that made his blood run cold. If he could feel his Innocence being invoked, if the curse was affecting him here, did that mean this body and his own were connected? His hand strayed to the still slightly raised nick on his neck. Allen hadn’t known where it came from. It hadn’t been there when he woke up in this world. The knife that had inflicted it was so sharp, he hadn’t even felt it prick his skin. Was Link the cause? Had Link, upon finding an Allen that wasn’t theirs, held a blade to that Allen’s throat, and the injury, though small, been shared?

His throat felt dry as he made his decision. “W-what would you say if I said I wasn’t your Allen?”

“The hell does that mean?”

Another soul vanished. “My name is Allen Walker. I’m an exorcist, and yesterday, an Akuma—”

“This weeb shit isn’t funny.” Kanda’s voice was harsh, dangerous, the one Allen knew, but there was an undercurrent of fear that he’d never heard before. “I swear—”

“I have no idea what a ‘weeb’ is,” Allen said. He looked down, hid his eyes with his bangs as another student passed by their table, but she didn’t spare them a glance. Another Akuma’s soul gone. The way they moved independently of his own eyes was making him dizzy. Three more remained.

Lenalee reached out and cautiously laid a hand over his. “Allen, stop messing around.” She gave his hand a squeeze, but Allen wasn’t sure if it was to reassure him or herself.

“I’m not this world’s Allen,” he insisted. He took a deep breath, looked her dead in the eye. “I’m an exorcist, and somehow, an Akuma switched me and Allen Campbell. Right now, he’s in my body in my world.”

Kanda was about to argue, but he thought better of it. He considered his friend, then said, “Shit. You really believe what you’re saying.”

“It’s the truth,” stated Allen firmly. Two more souls vanished.

“Then prove it.”

Only one thing came to mind at that challenge. He couldn’t show them an Akuma, nor Crown Clown, but there was something he could do that he was certain, even if this Allen knew how to do it, he could best him at to the point where they’d have to believe him.

The final soul disappeared, and his eye returned to normal. Allen found himself grinning darkly as he said, “Does this Allen know how to play poker?”


	5. Chapter 5

After school, the three met in the library as (according to Lenalee) they often did on Wednesdays when Nea had to stay later to work with the school’s jazz band. There, they took a study room, another common occurrence, and Lenalee whipped out a deck of cards she’d gotten from the small number of games the school kept for study halls.

It turned out, while this Allen knew how to play a few card games, poker wasn’t among them. After teaching them the rules, Allen shuffled the cards, adding a bit of a flourish to distract from him snagging the cards he would later need, and then set to work wiping the floor with them. The first hand, Kanda chalked up to luck. After the second and third, his resolve was beginning to crumble, but Kanda was still determined to say that it was coincidence. By the fourth hand, Lenalee was convinced of Allen’s story, especially as he became more blatant with his cheating. Even if they hadn’t caught him in the act yet.

“You can’t get three straight flushes in a row!” Kanda snarled after Allen’s sixth straight win.

Allen smiled pleasantly as he so often did when taking people for all they were worth. At least they weren’t playing for money. “You can if you’re cheating,” he replied mildly. The point of this exercise was to prove that he wasn’t their Allen, and from what he could tell, this Allen wouldn’t try to swindle anyone.

But Kanda persisted. “The last time you tried to cheat at _anything_ , it was Candyland when you were eight, and I caught you red handed. You suck at lying.”

“This Allen might,” he said as he shuffled the deck again, “but cards were a matter of life-or-death for me.”

Lenalee shuddered. This was a side of Allen she never thought she would see, even if this wasn’t really the Allen they knew. “Yuu, just say you believe him already.”

“But this is absolutely insane,” Kanda retorted. “There’s no such thing as magic. You can’t just swap bodies with someone in a parallel dimension! Life doesn’t work that way.”

Allen let out a gasp, and the cards slipped from his hands, scattering on the table. His hands flew to his side. His eye had activated again, but apparently, not with enough warning for the other Allen to get out of the way of whatever the Akuma threw at him. The tingling in his hand had preceded the pain in his side, so at least he knew Crown Clown had taken the brunt of whatever had been thrown at him.

Slowly, Allen lifted the side of his shirt and groaned at the sight of a large bruise blooming over his lower ribs. Kanda’s eyes widened at the sight of the injury that was appearing, unprovoked, before their very eyes. The older teen cursed and moved to check it, but Allen shooed his hand away before prodding it himself. He breathed a small sigh of relief that hitched at the end. “Nothing’s broken, at least.” He let the shirt drop and shrugged the school blazer back on to hide the injury.

Lenalee looked deathly pale. “D-does that mean… Allen’s hurt?”

He sighed. There was only so much he could sugarcoat this. “I think they were ambushed, but your Allen isn’t alone. He’ll have some of my friends with him, and they’ll do their best to keep him safe. Besides, he has Crown Clown to protect him.” If there was one thing Allen trusted in, it was his Innocence.

Her fingers dug into her uniform’s skirt; her hands were shaking. “You need to tell Allen’s dad.”

Allen stared at her, a little stunned. Even under the best circumstances, he wouldn’t want to worry the man. Sensing his discomfort with the idea, Lenalee said quietly, “If you tell him, he’ll believe you. He needs to know, in case…” she trailed off, but he knew what she meant: In case the worst happens.

“Plus, if he needs to take your ass to a hospital, he’s an author and a performer. He can make up a good excuse,” Kanda added oh so helpfully. This attempt at humor made Lenalee giggle hesitantly, but it threw Allen off. More seriously, he said, “It’s not like he doesn’t know something’s up. Your—er—Allen’s dad is a freaking mind reader sometimes.”

A stab of guilt. Mana did know something was going on; that much he’d gathered that morning. “I’ll tell him,” he assured Lenalee, though he wasn’t sure how he would go about it.

Just in time, the curse deactivated. A knock was their only warning before Nea opened the door. “Ready to go?”

Allen nodded and grabbed his bag. “See you tomorrow,” he said to Lenalee and Kanda, figuring that’s what this Allen would say.

“Yup.” Lenalee waved. “Say hi to your dad for me.”

The drive home was mostly silent, with Allen watching out the window while Nea attempted small talk. Seeing it was a losing battle, though, Allen’s uncle sighed and said, “Talk to your dad. He’s worried about you.”

“I know,” Allen mumbled. “I just don’t know what to say.” Lenalee had said Mana would believe him, but like Kanda had said, there wasn’t any magic here. If it hadn’t been for them witnessing his curse and seeing the bruise form without cause, he didn’t think Kanda would ever have believed him.

They arrived at Mana’s house, and Nea cut the engine. Allen looked over at him curiously when he didn’t get out right away. “I know it’s hard to believe, but we were both teenagers once. You’ve had it a little rougher than us—okay, a lot rougher, but still. We’ve been there. Whatever’s up, we can help.”

This wasn’t something they could help with, but Allen didn’t want to tell Nea that. Lenalee had said Mana would understand, but his uncle had been conspicuously absent from that statement. Maybe he was overthinking it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that that was for a reason.

So Allen replied with a smile, “Thank you. I’ll talk to Dad. I promise.”

He had to wait a little to get Mana alone, though. Nea joined them for dinner, something they called tacos. Allen had never had these before, but he made a mental note to ask Jerry if he knew how to make them when he got back.

Once Nea had left, he decided it was now or never. He tapped Mana on the shoulder as the man cleared the table. “Can I talk to you a second?”

“Of course. Shall I put on some tea?”

They settled on the couch in the living room armed with mugs of peppermint tea. Allen took a sip to steady himself, then began his story with, “This is going to sound crazy, but… I’m not the Allen you know. My name is Allen Walker, and I’m an exorcist.” Mana, for his part, was a good listener, not interrupting even once as Allen explained himself and how he’d been fighting Akuma when one had used its powers to swap the two teenagers. He didn’t argue or tell him to stop making things up as Kanda had, just waited and listened, though he breathed in sharply and looked more than a little alarmed when Allen told him about the injury both he and the other Allen had received and how there might be more before this was sorted out.

The tea had cooled by the time Allen finished, and the first words Mana spoke were to ask to see the wound. Allen set the mug down and lifted his shirt. The bruise was already an ugly purple. “It looks worse than it is,” he insisted.

“It still looks painful. Have you taken anything for it?” When Allen shook his head, Mana left the room and returned with some ibuprofen.

They sat in silence while Allen waited for the painkiller to take effect. After a time, Mana ventured, “What should I call you?”

Allen frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, should I call you Allen? Or…”

“Allen is fine unless you would rather… Wait, you believe me?”

Mana nodded slowly. “Allen’s never given me a reason not to trust him, so I don’t think he would make something like this up. You were right that it sounds crazy, and even though I’d rather it not be true…” He sighed, stared at the remaining tea in his mug. “Will he be okay?”

Allen hoped he would be. “My friends are with him, and he has my Crown Clown. He should be okay.”

“What about you? This has to be strange for you.”

“I’m afraid I’ve gotten used to things like this. Switching bodies isn’t the strangest thing that’s happened to me in the last few months.”

The old clown looked surprised by this. “Oh? And what is?”

His first thought was of being host to the Fourteenth’s memories, but he didn’t want to share that. Instead, he said, “Well, I was possessed by a nine-year-old not too long ago, and before that, I became a zombie for a couple hours—I got better,” he added quickly at Mana’s horrified expression. “Komui, one of our resident scientists, invents all kinds of weird things, so the others are used to cleaning up his mess.”

Mana chuckled. “It sounds like you have quite the adventures.”

They spent the rest of the evening trading stories, though Allen was careful to censor his own if it was about his time with the Order or his master. Mana was worried enough about his own Allen without mentioning the copious dangers he himself had faced over the years. The time spent with his own Mana was safe, and after a few tales, this Allen’s father commented, “You really loved your father, didn’t you.”

Allen’s cheeks flushed. “I did. He taught me a lot.”

“Where is he now? Is he a member of the Black Order, too?”

He shook his head. “He passed away a few years ago.”

Mana’s face fell. “I’m sorry for your loss. Talking to me must be—”

“No, it’s nice, talking to you. It’s like getting a second chance.” One Allen never thought he’d have. He’d almost lost his life trying to get just that when he created an Akuma of his departed father back then. “I just wish it was under better circumstances.”

The old clock to the side of the room chimed the hour. His father’s double mussed up Allen’s hair as Mana used to. “It’s getting late. Perhaps we should call it a night?”

“But—”

“I’ll call you in sick tomorrow,” he promised. “We can talk more in the morning.”


	6. Chapter 6

Lavi had warned Allen about his curse. He’d told him that he would see the souls trapped within the Akuma and that it was like getting a peek at hell itself. Allen had believed him, but he hadn’t realized just how bad seeing hell would be.

A Finder spotted the Akuma early the next morning and avoided being swapped the way Allen had. Once word had reached the Order, Komui sent the group of exorcists after the Level 2. They’d had warning of the approaching horde thanks to Allen’s eye reacting—a strange sensation that sent a small stab of pain through his skull—and they were able to get into position. Allen even managed to invoke his other self’s Innocence, and Crown Clown settled around him. He would have been a sitting duck otherwise.

A half-dozen Akuma showed up, their bulbous bodies marking them all as Level 1, Allen later found out. What he wasn’t expecting was the visceral reaction he had to the souls. Lavi hadn’t been kidding. The sight of the tortured souls screaming in pain and despair made his stomach clench like he was going to be sick. His eyes widened behind the monocle, and his mouth went completely dry.

Somehow, he had enough presence of mind to use Crown Clown to block the rain of bullets, or maybe it was the Innocence itself’s doing. Allen couldn’t be quite sure, but he was glad that the Innocence was like a suit of armor.

Someone—Link—grabbed him by the hood and threw him back toward Miranda and a now-unconscious Timothy while Lavi and Kanda rushed forward to take on the creatures directly. Before Allen could do more than get back to his feet, some kind of barrier surrounded him and the other two exorcists, though his cursed eye could still see through and track the Akuma’s souls.

“A-are you all right?” Miranda stuttered.

Allen swallowed back the bile. His stomach was still in knots, and seeing the souls wasn’t helping. Closing his eyes did nothing either. The souls of the damned were still perfectly clear. Useful or not, he was seriously wondering if the benefits outweighed the cost. Just what had this Allen done to end up with this nightmare?

He attempted a reassuring smile. “Just a bit startled.”

“Don’t freeze like that, or you’ll get yourself killed,” Link admonished, settling down to wait with his charge.

One by one, the souls were freed and vanished. Crown Clown thrummed around him, as if urging Allen to join the fight. His cursed eye, too, flicked from soul to soul of its own accord, making Allen dizzy as well as queasy. His heart pounded, adrenaline rushed through him, his claw-like arm ached to destroy the monsters before him. It slowly dawned on him that this body wanted nothing more than to force him to do its bidding by fighting the Akuma. He shuddered at the thought.

The last soul vanished, and all at once, the tension left him. Both Crown Clown and the cursed monocle vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving him tired and feeling like he’d run a marathon despite crouching in the safety of Miranda’s Time Record.

The barrier fell away. “So how was your first fight?” Lavi asked conversationally. “Everything you could dream of?” As if a half-dozen or so monsters _hadn’t_ just tried to murder them all. Kanda just clicked his tongue in mild irritation at both the redhead and Allen.

Timothy’s eyes popped open, and he sat up. “No sign of that Level 2,” he reported, much to everyone’s disappointment.

They kept up the search well into the afternoon, and just as Allen thought they were going to have to call it quits and regroup, disaster struck.

The Akuma came so fast, Allen didn’t have a chance to react to the curse. Crown Clown seemed to activate on instinct, and he was pretty sure that’s the only thing that saved him from crushed ribs or a punctured lung as he was slammed into. This soul was so far gone, Allen could only describe it as a disintegrating mass in a vaguely human shape. Between the pain from the strike and that sight, Allen’s stomach convulsed, and he lost what little remained in his stomach.

Even with the cheap shot, it was hardly a fair fight for the Akuma. It was only one Level 3, and one on the weaker end of the scale that needed its sneak attack at that, against two exorcists and a CROW. Within minutes, a very pissed off Kanda had already slashed it clean in two.

Still, Allen laid curled on his side, gasping for breath and trying desperately to regain his composure before he lost it entirely. The curse had been ruthless, but Crown Clown seemed to take pity on him this time, forming a protective cocoon around him rather than urging him to fight as it had last time. It didn’t leave him, even as the Akuma was vanquished.

Somehow, Timcanpy wormed his way past the magic cowl and tapped Allen’s face. His eyes slid open, a little unfocused, then shut again as he let out a small groan. Crown Clown slowly unwound and released him, and he sat up wincing as the pain shot through his side again.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Kanda shouted, sheathing Mugen. “Why didn’t you fight?!” He grabbed Allen by the front of his uniform.

Allen took a deep breath and willed his body to stop shaking. He knocked away Kanda’s hand. “I panicked,” he bit out. “Won’t happen again.”

The samurai’s eyes narrowed. “You useless—”

“Don’t be an ass hole,” Allen snapped. “Not everyone’s a highly trained super soldier, okay?”

Lavi stepped between the two and clapped his hands. “Now, now, no fighting you two,” he said cheerily. “Let’s head back to the inn and figure out what we’re doing next, ‘kay?” Kanda let out an irritated “Tch,” and stormed off, leaving Lavi, Link, and Miranda to help a still shellshocked Allen.

Back in their room, Link was prodding Allen’s injury, much to the teen’s discomfort. He wasn’t one for being shirtless alone in his own room, let alone with an audience. To distract himself, he found himself asking Lavi, “Do they still use leeches these days?”

“That practice’s been dying out. The Order doesn’t use ‘em anyway.” Lavi tilted his head, grinning at the excellent opportunity to wheedle more ‘spoilers’ out of the other teen. “I’m guessing it’s not a thing anymore for you?”

“I think they’re looking at leeches for hematoma care or something, but no one actually uses them.”

Lavi laughed. “It’s weird hearing big words come out of that mouth.”

“My grades are screwed if I don’t get back soon, aren’t they.”

“I warned ya yesterday.”

Link interrupted them with, “Nothing’s broken, and there doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage.” He handed Allen back his shirt. “You’ll live.”

“Gee, thanks.” Allen shrugged on the button down and swallowed the painkillers Link passed him next.

Lavi’s face turned serious for a moment as he leaned his arms on the back of the chair he occupied. “You doin’ okay?”

“You sound like my dad.”

“Yeah, well, you ralphed earlier ‘cause of that Akuma.” It didn’t escape Lavi’s notice either how the teen’s hands shook as he buttoned up his shirt.

Allen sighed. “I wasn’t expecting it. That’s all. I should be okay next time.” At least, he hoped he would be. This world’s Kanda might kill him if he didn’t fight next time.


	7. Chapter 7

Nea wasn’t there when Allen came downstairs the next morning. Instead, he found Mana flipping pancakes humming a very familiar tune to himself. _So the Fourteenth’s melody exists here too…_ Allen thought as he sat down.

“Good morning.” He hesitated, then asked, “Where did you learn that song?”

Mana scooped the last pancake from the pan and brought the stack to the table. “It’s a lullaby my mother used to sing to Nea and me when we were small. Why, do you know it?”

“Yes. From my father.” The second part was stretching the truth a bit. Allen was pretty sure he’d heard Mana sing it once or twice, but he hadn’t really thought about it until he’d realized that the Fourteenth had planted the melody in his mind.

The man hummed thoughtfully to himself. “I guess there’s more than just shared faces then between our worlds.”

“It’s kind of a sad song for a lullaby, isn’t it?”

“You know, Allen said the same thing the first time he heard it.”

“Really?”

Mana nodded. “Something about it being sappy too. He picked it up pretty quick though.” His eyes twinkled at the memory. “Sad and sappy as it is, it’s comforting too, don’t you think?”

If not for all the baggage that came with it in his own world, Allen might have agreed with that sentiment, though he nodded anyway.

Once breakfast was eaten and cleaned up, they settled on the couch as they had the night before, though this time Mana had a sketch pad in his lap as they talked. Allen watched curiously as the man brought first a little cartoony Timcanpy to life, then a Pierrot, then the Little Clown from the picture book upstairs. They were rough sketches, and Mana drew a few tiny pictures of them on the same page, trying to find an arrangement he liked.

“How did you come up with Timcanpy?” Allen asked after watching for a while.

“Ah, that was a long, long time ago,” Mana replied with a bright smile. “I dreamt I was a traveling clown and this little gold creature was following me around, keeping an eye on me. The idea of a pet golem keeping a hapless adult out of trouble was so silly, I just had to draw it.”

“And Little Clown?”

Mana’s pencil paused. “He was inspired by Allen when I first adopted him. It took a while to get his design just right.” A soft, sad smile graced his lips, one Allen had seen any number of times on his own Mana’s face. The pencil began moving again, slowly drawing lines to form not Little Clown, but a frowning, familiar child. “Allen cried when I showed him that book. I think he was convinced I was going to hurt him or get tired of him until he saw how I drew Little Clown.” He sighed. “He was a bit old for the Timcanpy books, but I wrote that one especially for him. He was so scared and angry then; I wanted to show him what kindness was so he could open up again.”

Allen’s chest felt tight, and he had to look away. Had his Mana felt that way when he found him back then? “You should tell him that when he gets back.” When, not if. For both their sakes, Allen wanted Mana to get his son back.

They spent the day together much like the before, this time with more stories from Mana as he drew and colored and wrote. Some of the stories were of when Mana and Nea were Allen’s age, while others were about this Allen growing up. Like Allen’s tales yesterday, he seemed to be dancing around certain issues as well, and Allen never pressed him.

As the day wore on, they almost forgot the reason Allen was here in the first place. The reminder came when Allen’s cursed eye activated once more. His arm tingled again with Crown Clown’s invocation. Mana’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t need to ask what was happening. Allen had warned him yesterday. This was just the proof he didn’t need that the story was true, and a reminder of the danger his Allen was in.

The doorbell rang then, and Mana looked from the front hall to Allen and back. “You can answer it. There’s not much we can do right now, anyway,” admitted Allen.

He heard Kanda and Lenalee talking when Mana opened the door, and moments later, the two classmates joined them in the living room. Or were about to. Kanda stumbled, then let out a low string of curses.

“Yuu?” Lenalee asked in alarm as he clutched his forearm. Blood ran down from under his sleeve, dripping off his fingers onto the wooden floor.

“Don’t call me Yuu!” he barked, then froze. He stared in astonishment at Lenalee, then his gaze swept to Mana and Allen with a look of dawning comprehension. Then, “Fucking hell.”

Allen hoped this wasn’t what he thought it was. “Kanda?”

His eyes narrowed at Allen. Recognizing the voice and cursed eye, his scowl deepened. “Where are we, Bean Sprout?”

“It’s Allen,” he shot back, “and this is Allen Campbell’s house.”

Mana looked between the two who continued to glare at each other, and realizing what was happening, simply said, “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

As Mana bandaged the gash on Kanda’s forearm, Kanda gave a brief report of what they were facing: a handful of Level 1 Akuma and two Level 3. And the Level 2 they’d been seeking was hiding out somewhere, considering Kanda was now here.

“Can this guy fight?” Kanda asked Lenalee gruffly.

“He’s captain of our Kendo team,” the girl replied. She was pale and shaking so hard, Allen set the mug of mint tea Mana asked him to make for her on the coffee table.

“So he’ll be better than that useless kid.”

She pursed her lips. “Allen’s not useless, and if Yuu’s with him, those Akuma are toast.”

Kanda’s stared at her. “He froze every time an Akuma showed up.”

“If Yuu’s there, Allen’ll fight to keep him safe. Same goes the other way around. Friendship is Magic and all that.” She gave a shaky smirk. “They’ll be back before we know it.”

* * *

This time, Allen was ready. When his eye reacted to the Akuma’s presence, he invoked Crown Clown and shouted for the others. There were ten in total, all heading straight for them.

Allen ignored the souls, focusing instead on breathing and fighting. Miranda brought up her barrier around herself and Timothy, leaving the three remaining exorcists and Link to handle the creatures while Timothy searched for the Level 2. Kanda and Lavi left the small fry to Allen and Link, each taking a Level 3 for themselves. Or that was the plan, anyway.

He successfully took out two of the Level 1 Akuma, dancing back from shots fired by the remaining three. The claw-like weapon was surprisingly easy to wield, and it was almost like the Innocence itself guided him through the motions that would have been second nature to this Allen. He lunged forward, slashing through a third Akuma, when from the corner of his eye he saw Kanda stumble and the katana slip from his suddenly loosened grip.

The Level 3 he was fighting took the chance to swing at the exorcist, and he raised his arm instinctively to block the blow. The monster’s sharp, talonlike fingers tore through the man’s forearm, and Kanda let out a cry of pain.

Without thinking, Allen launched at the Level 3, barreling into it in a way that probably wasn’t a great idea. The tips of his claw grazed the Akuma’s chest, but the creature moved out of range before any real damage could be dealt.

“Are you all right?” Allen asked, adopting a defensive stance as he stood between Kanda and the Akuma. This man wasn’t his friend, but that didn’t mean he was going to let this jerk who shared his face get killed.

Kanda gaped at Allen, then picked up the katana that lay in the grass where he’d dropped it. “Why the hell did you drag me into your weeb shit?!” he snapped, testing the balance of the blade in his hands with a swing.

“Wait, Yuu?!”

The Japanese man got into a fighting stance. “I’m guessing that’s one of those Akuma things?” He eyed the enemy warily.

“Yeah, Level 3.”

“Level 3 Pokémon or Level 3 Hurricane?”

“Hurricane.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t ignore me!” the Akuma whined. Spheres of a dark glowing purple substance appeared around its head when it lifted its arm. As its hand dropped, the spheres shot forward like bullets.

Both exorcists leapt out of the way. The ground just behind where they once stood was pockmarked with little craters. “Around the back?” Allen hissed to his friend, who grimaced.

“This isn’t a video game.”

“Same logic applies.”

“Fine.”

The two split up. “Link, do your thing!” Allen called as he practically flew at the Akuma, providing one part of the distraction Yuu would need.

Without questioning the situation, Link flung the glowing talismans. They burst into flames, practically engulfing the Akuma in an inferno, though the flames had little effect. Allen’s claw did far more damage, even with the glancing blow he landed to its torso. He danced back as his opponent grabbed at him and couldn’t help the smug grin as Yuu came up behind the monster and sliced it cleanly from shoulder to hip.

The cursed lens vanished as Lavi smashed the remaining Level 3. “Looks like we got ‘em all,” he said, leaning on his elongated hammer.

Yuu didn’t lower his weapon as he glared at the obviously not-human thing standing beside the redhead. “Then what the hell is _that?_ ”

It was definitely an Akuma, Allen thought, though the cursed eye wasn’t reacting to it. It also spoke in Timothy’s voice as it proclaimed proudly, “An Akuma I took over.” It and Lavi exchanged a fist bump.

Crown Clown deactivated, and Allen breathed a sigh of relief. “They’re on our side, Yuu. You can put away the sword.”

“Like hell I will.”

Lavi blinked, then grinned. “Oho? Is this _your_ Yuu-chan?”

“Call me Yuu-chan again, and I will end you.” He looked around at the unfamiliar faces. “Now how do we get home?”

The possessed Akuma raised its hand. “I swap you guys back with my power. It takes five minutes to recharge though and only works one at a time.”

Lavi hit his palm with the heel of his fist. “Ah, so _that’s_ why it didn’t switch me and Lenalee before too. That’s kinda convenient, actually.”

Yuu frowned at this news, then shook his head with an irritated grunt. “Fine. Send me back first. I’ll let them know what’s going on.” Glancing over at Allen, he said, “You can say your goodbyes or whatever.”

“Thanks, Yuu.”

* * *

Yuu blinked. This was a feeling he could not get used to, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to. One minute, he’d been in the middle of nowhere, and now he was sitting in Allen’s living room. “Oh thank God,” he breathed, then winced. His arm hurt like hell. The adrenaline before must have dulled the pain.

“Ah! You’re back!” Lenalee threw her arms around his shoulders.

“Careful.” He looked to Allen. “You’ve got five minutes. That Akuma’s ability has a recharge time.”

Allen Walker nodded. “Thanks.” He ought to say goodbye. He knew he should, especially with how much he and Mana had talked. Bonded, even. Now that he was faced with leaving, of being separated from Mana again… What was he supposed to say?

“It was nice meeting you all,” he said at last, wearing his smile like a mask. “Sorry for getting you caught up in this.”

Mana wore a similar smile. Allen really had learned it from the best. “Take care, Allen. Thank your friends for me for keeping him safe, won’t you?”

“I will.”

The wait was torture. Mana must have felt it, too, for he added, “I wish I could send you back with a souvenir to remember us by,” to fill the silence. “I’m sure Allen wouldn’t mind sharing a Timcanpy.”

“I’ve got a real Timcanpy back home,” Allen replied with a genuine laugh, “and he’ll be thrilled to hear he’s so well loved here.” Whether Timcanpy was popular or not, he would still be telling the little golem that. He had at least a little fame as a children’s book hero.

It was the longest five minutes of their lives, one broken up with more awkward attempts at final goodbyes from all present. Eventually, just as the countdown reached its end, Mana pulled Allen into a hug. Allen leaned into it, hugged back, and then his arms loosened in mild confusion.

“Dad?”

Mana gave him another light squeeze, then let go. “Welcome back.”

Allen, their Allen, grinned back. “It’s good to be home.”


End file.
